External Penetration
by Argyle.S
Summary: Harry is having sex with his two best friends. Unfortunately, they know nothing about it. Ron/Hermione, Harry/Hermione Sort of , Harry/Ron Sort of . One Shot.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter and all associated characters, places, spells etc. belong to J. K. Rowling. I am just borrowing them for a use I'm rather sure she wouldn't approve of. No money is being made.

Warnings: Non-Consensual Voyeurism. Serious invasions of privacy. PoorMentalHealth!Harry. Probably one of the slashiest pieces of het ever written.

* * *

The first time it happened was an accident. The flu was making its way through Hogwarts with a vengeance and Harry and Snape had both come down with it after Madame Pomfrey had run out of Pepper-up potion. Snape, being Snape, had vented his own misery on Harry in double potions that afternoon, and Harry had been so upset and sick he hadn't been able to fend off a single assault in his evening Occlumency lesson with Dumbledore. By the time he'd gotten back to Gryffindor tower that evening, he'd been miserable and his defenses had been lower than they'd been since before the Department of Mysteries.

He had no sooner dropped into a chair next to Ron at their usual study table than his scar seemed to catch fire and he was hit with a wave of sheer delight completely at odds with what he was feeling. He knew that anything that made Voldemort that happy couldn't possibly be good. He was vaguely aware of Ron's hand on his arm as he tried to decide what to do. Finally, he decided he needed to know what Voldemort was up to.

He wasn't a trained Legilimens, but he'd learned that if he pushed his mind out a certain way when someone was distracted, he could enter their minds, which made it almost impossible for them to remain in his mind. He'd discovered the trick during his lessons with Snape during fifth year, but after months of using it was a defensive tactic, he could occasionally break through even Dumbledore's defenses.

Voldemort was definitely distracted.

Harry pushed out.

Later, he would suspect it was a combination of the physical contact, the pain and his frayed nerves, but he didn't end up in Voldemort's mind.

The common room vanished, and he found himself in an abandoned classroom where he and Ron had occasionally hidden from Filch and Mrs. Norris. He wasn't alone either. Hermione was under him, her shirt open, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her simple cotton bra pushed up to bare her breasts. Her nipples were hard and still wet with his saliva. His own shirt was open and she was squeezing his nipple. The damp November air was cold against his chest, but he felt almost unbearably hot, like he'd been plunged into a scalding bath. She was wrapped so tightly around him it was driving him crazy, but she had her ankles hooked together behind his back and was pulling him into her in time with each thrust.

But what really struck him wasn't the sheer heaven of being inside her. It was the tight, constricting band across his chest. A mix of emotions that made it almost impossible to breathe. There was raw, animal lust that even being inside her didn't satisfy. There was the conviction that there was nothing on earth quite so beautiful as she was. There was a burning desire to hold her in his arms and never let go. There was a horrible, sickening fear that she would be taken away from him. Most of all, there was wonder. He was filled with a bone deep amazement that she would let him touch her, that she would let his hands and lips roam where they would, that she wanted it and that when she looked at him, she saw something worthy of being loved.

He felt the familiar trembling inside himself that knew he was close. He balanced himself on his left hand, slipped his right between them and found her clit with practiced ease. She groaned and clenched around him, but he bit his lip and held back so he could stroke her. In the end, he did come first, but he managed to hold off long enough that when she did come, when she let out that noise that was somewhere between a growl and a scream, he was still hard enough to be inside her.

She pulled him down on top of her, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing him tightly with both arms and legs.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." She said it over and over again, a sort of pleading desperation in it, and he said it back as the fear of losing her squeezed his chest, pushing aside wonder and lust until all he could do was wrap his arms around her and hold her and beg her to never leave him.

It was over as suddenly as it started, and Harry looked up to find Hermione standing over him.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Voldemort," he replied. "He's happy."

Hermione got a very cross look on her face. "What about your Occlumency?"

"I'm, ah..." he stammered for a minute. He was having trouble meeting her eyes, because every time he did he saw her coming beneath him.

"He hasn't been feeling well today," Ron said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I had a rough Occlumency lesson too, but I shut him out as soon as I could."

"Good," Hermione said. "You should go up to the hospital wing though. Madam Pomfrey's bound to have the Pepper-up Potion ready."

"Good idea."

"Then you should go tell Dumbledore."

Harry nodded as he headed for the portrait hole, but he had no intention of going anywhere near Dumbledore until he was sure he could keep what had just happened to himself.

The second time it happened, Harry was angry.

It was two weeks before the start of the Christmas Holidays and Flitwick had set an essay on the difference between protective charms and wards. Hermione had been rather insistent on starting it right away, and Harry had reluctantly agreed to meet her and Ron in the Library at 7:30. She and Ron turned up at ten minutes after eight, apologizing about their prefects meeting running long. Harry glared up at her, trying his best to tell if she was lying.

Just as suddenly as it happened before, Harry found himself somewhere else. His eyes were closed and Ron was kissing him with bruising force. A hand was kneading his breast through the fabric of his robe while another squeezed his arse. He was working open Ron's trousers with his right hand while he stroked Ron's erection through the trousers with his left.

He pulled back and looked into Ron's eyes. Eyes that looked at him with so much love, trust and desire. Eyes that made him feel beautiful and desirable and above all, loved. He fought the fear that always gripped him. The fear that this could be taken from him. Fear that he might never have another kiss that tasted of chocolate frogs and sugar quills. Fear that he might never feel those broom-callused hands on his body again, or those strong arms holding him or hear another of his biting remarks. Fear that all the thousand little things would be snatched away.

He dropped to his knees and worked open Ron's trousers, pulling them and his pants down just far enough that Ron's cock sprang free.

Ron groaned as he took him in his mouth. The weight was familiar and comforting. The salty taste of the semen leaking out of the tip caused a twitch between his legs. He bobbed his head up and down, running his tongue along the length of Ron's shaft. Ron was groaning and coming by the forth stroke.

He'd known Ron wouldn't last long. They were both too worked up. On the other had, one of the chief advantages of their age was the fact that Ron would be ready again in about five minutes.

He smiled up at Ron and said, "I love you."

Ron looked down at him.

"I love you too, Hermione."

Harry suddenly found himself staring at Hermione in the middle of the library, and felt his temper rising.

"The next time you to feel like grabbing an empty classroom, do it when you don't have someone waiting on you," he snapped.

"Harry..." Hermione said.

He didn't listen. He just shoved his books in his bag and stormed out of the library.

The third time it happened, Harry did it on purpose.

Ron slipped back into their bedroom at Grimmauld Place a little after 1:00 am Christmas morning. It didn't really take Rowena Ravenclaw to figure out what he'd been off doing.

Later, he would rationalize it. He would tell himself it was because he was in the house. He would tell himself it was because he was lonely. He would tell himself it was because he was curious about sex. He'd tell himself all those things, and more.

He'd just never believe them.

What he would believe was that as Ron slid into bed, he'd reached out and touched Ron's mind. He waited, deliberately, until Ron was almost asleep and his mind was at its most open and defenseless.

"Have fun?" he asked.

It worked. He felt the memory rise in Ron's mind, and very suddenly he found himself sitting on one of the beds in the bedroom Fred and George had shared the summer before his fifth year, watching as Hermione closed the door. He was already so hard it hurt. She had been teasing him all day. She was still teasing him. The way she walked across the room was so sexy it shouldn't be allowed.

"I love you," he whispered as he pulled her into his arms. She leaned down and kissed him. He moaned as she pushed her tongue in and out of his mouth. He loved it when she kissed him like that. It felt like she was fucking his mouth with her tongue. It made him so much more aware of her, especially of her power. She was claiming him, marking him. He could feel the raw magic pouring off of her in waves.

He remembered the first time she'd been like this. It had bloody well scared him out of his mind. Now, it just made him want her more.

He slipped his hands up under her jumper and cupped her breasts. He wasn't surprised by the lack of a bra. Earlier, when they'd been sitting in the library, she'd taken a moment when Harry had been distracted to lift up her jumper and give him a peek at those wonderful, beautiful breasts. He knew he wouldn't find any knickers under her skirt for similar reasons.

He kneaded her breasts slowly, pinching the nipples between thumb and forefinger. She moaned and broke the kiss. She reached down and in one quick motion pulled off her jumper.

Standing there, straddling his legs, she placed one hand on either side of his face and shifted his gaze from her chest up to her face.

"I love you, too," she said.

Then she was kissing him and pulling at the buttons of his shirt. He grumbled when he had to let go of her long enough to shuck the shirt. He grumbled louder when she made him stand up. He wanted to touch her and taste her and slip his tongue inside her and feel her thighs wrapped around his head as she came.

"Let me taste you," he said.

She smiled and worked open his belt and trousers.

"Take these off."

He stripped out of his trousers and pants and stood naked before her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide for him. He smiled and got down on his knees.

She tasted wonderful, all sweet and tart like strong lemon tea sweetened with too much wild honey. He wrapped his right arm around her leg and found her clit with his fingers, then he slipped down and pushed his tongue inside her, letting her flavor wash over it and feeling her clinch around it.

Every sound she made he felt, almost as if her moans were somehow stroking his cock. He couldn't get over the fact that he was the one making her make those noises and making her twist and writhe and pant and beg for more. When she came, he very nearly came with her.

She sat up and fisted her hand in his hair so she could pull him up for a kiss.

"Lay down," she said.

He crawled up on the bed and lay down. She took out a condom and tore it open. He watched, captivated, as she sat it on the tip of his cock and bent over it. He was never really sure how he kept from coming as she used her mouth to roll the condom down the length of his shaft. She looked up into his eyes and gave him a smile before she gave him a couple of quick strokes with her mouth.

She stood up long enough to take off her skirt then climbed up on top of him. She pressed her groin against his and slowly slid up him, pressing his cock down against his stomach until his tip found her entrance. She rolled her hips and suddenly he was inside her.

He barely noticed how good it felt. The physical feeling of her wrapped around him was just incredible. She was tight and so hot it felt like she was on fire inside.

He never noticed that in the first moments after he entered her. Those moments were always awash in simple stunned wonder that she wanted him and loved him. He reached down and laced the fingers of both his hands through hers and squeezed.

"I love you."

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.

"I love you, too."

Then she squeezed him, tearing a groan from his throat. It didn't take much. He was too worked up. She rose and fell maybe seven or eight times before his head fell back and he came inside her.

When he opened his eyes, she was smiling down at him.

"Mine," she said.

"Always," he agreed.

When Harry suddenly found himself back in his own room, it was because Ron was laughing.

"I'm sorry, mate. It's just..."

"Yeah," Harry said, suddenly full of guilt at what he'd just done. "I understand."

The fourth time it happened, Harry knew he had a problem.

It was New Years Eve and there was a bit of a party going on in the upstairs parlor. Harry had noticed Ron and Hermione slipping out almost an hour earlier. When they came back, Hermione sat down on the couch next to him while Ron went to get them some food.

Harry never considered *not* doing it.

He was in Fred and George's room and holding Ron's hand tightly. Their fingers were laced together and he was smiling at Ron.

"Think anyone will miss us?" Ron asked.

"I don't care," he replied. He pointed his wand at the door and cast a locking spell he'd found in Extra Strength Defenses for Extra Dangerous Situations. It was strong enough that Alohamora wouldn't even touch it. The only way to get the door open was with the pass phrase. He backed it up with an Imperturbable charm, then sat his wand on the bedside table and turned back to Ron and snuggled into his arms.

"I don't want to go to school."

Ron laughed. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"Yeah. I just like it better here. I like it when I can be with you any time I want."

Ron hugged him tightly.

"Yeah, I reckon I kind of like that part too."

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

He tilted his head up and brushed his lips against Ron's throat. When he flicked his tongue over the soft skin, Ron groaned.

"I want you inside of me," he whispered.

Ron growled and he felt Ron's hands slip under his jumper and knead his breasts through his bra. He pulled the jumper off and reached behind his back to open the clasp of the bra. He'd barely gotten it off before Ron leaned down and took one of his nipples in his mouth.

He felt himself growing wet as Ron unbuttoned his jeans. He arched his back, lifting up off the mattress so Ron could tug his jeans and knickers down. Ron pulled them off and started working down his stomach. He groaned when Ron sat up and watched as Ron fumbled inside the charmed pocket on his jeans. A moment later, Ron produced a condom, a glove and a bottle of lube potion.

Ron pulled on the glove and covered it with lube.

He trembled in anticipation. This wasn't quite what he'd planned, but Ron's idea was definitely better.

Much as he hated to admit it, when he'd first made love to Ron, he'd half expected it to be terrible. Ron had surprised him. He was attentive, giving, uninhibited and talented. It didn't hurt that Ron always seemed more interested in making sure he came than in getting off himself.

He shivered as Ron's hand slipped between his legs. He felt fingers pressing against his vagina and his arse.

"Yes," he moaned.

Ron pushed inside him and it felt fantastic. He felt so deliciously full with two fingers in his cunt and one in his arse. When he felt Ron's tongue brush over his clit was pure heaven.

He closed his eyes and fisted his hands in the sheets and let Ron drive him wild until all he could do was beg Ron to go faster and harder. Normally, when he came, he tried to be careful about the noise, but the room was Imperturbed and everyone was in the parlor. This time, he let himself go and screamed.

When he caught his breath again, he sat up and pulled Ron into a kiss.

"I love you," Ron said.

"I love you, too," he replied. He kissed Ron again and then said, "and I still want you inside me."

Ron's face lit up like a kid in a candy store.

He whimpered slightly as Ron's fingers left him, but watched with delight as Ron stripped off the used glove, then his clothes. He picked up the condom and tore it open. Ron smiled at him as he slipped off the bed and down onto his knees.

He placed the condom at the tip of Ron's cock and rolled it down his shaft with his mouth. He moaned around Ron's cock. The feel of it in his mouth was such a turn on. He gave it a couple of quick strokes before letting go and crawling back up on the bed.

Ron crawled on top of him and he moaned as Ron pressed against his stomach. Ron slid down until the tip found his entrance. He nodded at the questioning look on Ron's face, and Ron thrust inside him.

He loved this. Not just having Ron inside him, though that was really good. He loved being able to feel Ron's weight, to smell him, to taste the salty sweat on his skin, as they made love. Most of all, he just loved being able to hold him and be held in return. He felt safe here, in these moments he spent wrapped around and wrapped up in Ron. He felt like nothing could touch them, like they could laugh at the specter of a hard death that lurked around every corner, stalking them. Here there was no Snape snarling at them, no Draco taunting them, no Death Eaters trying to kill them and no Harry taking out his own pain on them. Here it was just them and what they felt for each other. Just that wonderful way Ron looked at him and made him feel like the most precious thing in the universe.

Harry was suddenly back at the party.

"Are you okay Harry?" Hermione asked. "You look like you're a million miles away.

He had trouble looking her in the eyes. He suddenly didn't want to be in the same room as himself. What had he done? He'd barged into the one place where she wanted him least.

He barely made it to the loo before he emptied his stomach.

The last time it happened, Harry got caught.

His guilt always got him afterwards. He knew it was wrong. It just didn't stop him. Not for months. It might never have stopped him if he'd gone with Ron to meet Hermione after her Arithmancy lesson one Wednesday in March.

Except, he knew Ron had barely had time to see Hermione the previous week because they'd been getting ready for the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw game, and he'd been too busy catching up on his homework on Sunday to spend much time with her. So, Harry made an excuse about running back up to Gryffindor tower.

He didn't see them again until they turned up in Double Potions just before the bell rang.

Ron set down at the table with him as Snape stormed into the room like a foul tempered Chimera with a thorn in its paw. Harry looked at Snape and knew that he was in for a horrid class. He looked at Ron and saw a huge grin on his face. It wasn't really much of a choice.

He knew the classroom by heart. It was tucked in between the Advanced Arithmancy classroom and the History of Magic classroom. It looked like there hadn't been a class held there in centuries. The only reason the room wasn't covered in inches thick dust was Hermione's skill with scouring charms.

He had Hermione up against the wall. His hand was under her shirt fondling her breasts through her bra. Her hand was rubbing him roughly through the front of his trousers and she was riding his thigh as they kissed.

They didn't have as long as he would have liked and if he thought he could talk her into it, he'd skive off Double Potions and spend the rest of the day up here making her scream. He couldn't go through another week like the last one, and as she reached inside his trousers and pants to stroke him, he considered quitting the Quidditch team.

He broke the kiss long enough to say, "I love you." He pushed her shirt and bra up and took her breast in his mouth-

"Potter!"

The shout jerked him back to the Potions classroom and he found himself staring at Snape. Judging by the look on the git's face, he was in trouble.

"One Hundred and Fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter."

"What?" Harry said, stunned.

For nearly a full minute, the only sound in the room was Draco laughing his arse off. Finally, Snape leaned forward, speaking in a tone that suggested he was talking to someone profoundly stupid.

"One Hundred and Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, and you will accompany me to the Head Master's office. Immediately." Snape straightened up. "The rest of you will remain here. You will copy the notes on the board. Should you finish before I return, you will begin reading the chapter on the effects of wormwood infusions on the mind in your textbook. Anyone who attempts to brew their Lucid Dreaming draught before I return will find themselves expelled from this class and barred from sitting the Potions NEWT. Oh, and Potter, gather your things. You won't be returning."

Harry watched, stunned, as Snape marched out the door.

"Now, Potter," Snape bellowed from the hallway.

Harry picked up his books, quill and cauldron as quickly as he could manage and stepped out into the hall. Snape just glared at him for a moment, his face twitching as if he was trying not to snarl. He turned and stomped towards the stairs leading out of the Dungeons.

Harry followed. He tried to think of some reason Snape could be hacked off at him, and the only thing he could come up with was that Snape had caught him slipping into Ron's memories.

The idea alone was enough to make him panic. Would he be expelled? Worse, would Snape tell Ron and Hermione?

Or maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought. Maybe Snape had thought it was his memory.

No, if Snape had thought it was his memory, then surely Hermione would be here with him. Maybe he'd thought it was a daydream. Snape seemed the type to take offense at a student having sex dreams in his class.

A wild idea occurred to Harry. Snape was furious. He knew from long experience that anger was the surest way to lower your defenses. He'd have to be careful, but he just needed to know what Snape knew. As angry as Snape was, the thoughts must be right at the surface.

He reached out as they turned down the corridor leading to Dumbledore's office.

Nothing.

"Blueberry Scones," Snape said to the gargoyle. It moved aside and Harry followed Snape on to the moving stairs.

Snape knocked on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Come in," Dumbledore said from inside.

Snape pushed the door open and Harry followed him in. Snape turned around and looked him in the eye.

He was in a moonlit clearing. A thin figure with glowing red eyes stood before him, wand raised.

"Crucio."

The curse hit him, driving him from his feet. He lay on the ground. The Dark Lord wanted a scream. Demanded it, in fact. It went against everything he was to give into that, but he had a part to play, so he swallowed his pride and gave the Dark Lord his scream.

Harry found himself looking up at Snape from the floor of Dumbledore's office.

"You did that on purpose," Harry said.

"Yes," Snape said, "and if you ever go poking around in my mind again, I can assure you that after seven years in the Dark Lord's service, I have far worse with which to defend myself."

"Severus, what is going on?" Dumbledore asked.

"Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger are violating the rules against fraternization."

"I see. Why, then, have you brought Harry to see me?"

"Because Mr. Potter took it upon himself to use the magic you saw fit to teach him to satisfy his own voyeuristic urges in my classroom. He not only risked his own safety by failing to pay attention while I gave instructions on the preparation of a potentially lethal potion, but he violated the mind of a fellow student. Then, as if that were not enough, he made a ham handed attempt to breech my mental defenses in order to determine what I knew so he could formulate some excuse in order to escape punishment. I thought it best, Headmaster, to bring this matter directly to you, since you are the one who made the decision to instruct him in Occlumency."

"I see. Thank you, Severus."

Snape turned back to Harry. "You will not return to my classroom until such time as you have learned how to conduct yourself, Potter. Any further incidents like this and I will take great pleasure in removing you from my class permanently. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Thank you Severus," Dumbledore said, "that will be all."

"Yes Headmaster," Snape replied.

Harry watched him leave only to avoid having to look at Dumbledore.

"Sit, Harry."

Harry took a seat across from Dumbledore.

"Sherbet Lemon?"

"No sir."

"Very well. Why don't you tell me what happened."

Harry stared at his feet. His relationship with Dumbledore wasn't what it once was, but somehow, he couldn't quite bring himself to admit what he'd done to him. His thoughts turned back to the memories he'd been living in Ron and Hermione's minds for months and to the comfort and security they always found in the moments they spent together. He found himself longing desperately for that feeling. To just be able to escape all the horrible things he had to deal with every day. Even the guilt he felt over having violated his friends' privacy so horribly couldn't stop him from wishing that he was back in one of those memories.

He sat there for a long time. Dumbledore didn't push him, and he could almost hate the old wizard for that. If he'd been pushed, he might have just blurted the whole thing out. Instead, he had to gather his nerve and compose the story in his head.

"It was an accident at first," he said finally. "That day I had the flu and couldn't manage to block you out. My defenses were down and I couldn't get them back up. I felt a surge of happiness from Voldemort."

"Ah, yes. The second Azkaban breakout."

Harry nodded. "I didn't know that until we got the Prophet the next day. When I felt it, I thought it might be important to know what it was."

"You tried to enter his mind."

"Yes sir, except I wasn't really up to it. I'd had an awful day and I was sick. Ron had put his hand on my shoulder when the pain started in my scar. I wound up in his mind."

"And what did you find there?"

Harry bit his lip. If he told Dumbledore, they could lose their Prefect badges.

"I can assure you Harry, nothing you say will have any negative consequences for Ms. Granger or Mr. Weasley."

Harry sighed with relief. "They were together, sir. I saw it from Ron's perspective."

"I see."

"I didn't mean it the second time either. They were supposed to meet me in the library, but they turned up late. I was angry and I didn't believe Hermione's excuse. I was sure she was lying and suddenly I was in her head."

"When did you start doing it deliberately?"

"Christmas morning." It took Harry a moment to realize what he'd just said. He was surprised at the relief he felt.

"It wasn't..." There was no way around it. What he was about to say was going to sound like an excuse. "It wasn't about the sex."

Dumbledore sighed. Harry looked up at him and was shocked. Instead of anger or disappointment or revulsion, or any of the things he'd expected to see, Dumbledore wearing a look of sympathy and sadness.

"It rarely is," Dumbledore said.

"Sir?"

"You are not the first, nor I dare say the last person to succumb to such temptations Harry. In hindsight, I rather think I should have expected it."

"I don't understand sir."

"Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger are both capable of rather extraordinary depth of feeling, and their feelings for each other, already very strong, are still alight with the fire of new found love. Such feelings are always strongest during those moments when they can be expressed most freely. And for you, Harry, who have known so little of love, who have had so many of those you love taken from you, I imagine the temptation to experience those moments when their love was not only at its strongest, but when you could also feel the physical, tangible expression of that love... Well, I dare say the impulse was quite irresistible."

Harry looked down at his feet. "They just feel so safe when they're together." Time passed. Seconds stretched into minutes. "They resent me sometimes." He looked up at Dumbledore. "They hate it that they might lose each other because of me."

"An understandable feeling. However, you must remember that feelings are not something that can be controlled. You, after all, resent them."

Harry looked down, his cheeks burning. "I should be happy for them."

"But you miss how it was before."

"Yes."

"Again, a most understandable emotion. The friendship the three of you share is an enormous part of what made you the person you are today. In times of stress and pain, we tend to cling to those things which matter most to us, and yet, when you need it most, that friendship is undergoing an enormous change. You would not be quite human if you weren't at least a little upset."

"I think I'm jealous."

"I would be surprised if you weren't."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore. "What happens now?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "As I've said in the past, if I could wave my wand and make life easier for you, I would. Unfortunately, I cannot. You will have to learn to deal with you feelings."

"How?"

"That is for you to decide. I will, however, give you a bit of advice. True friendship is something quite rare and something far too valuable to cast aside for such transitory feelings as jealousy. A lesson I believe Mr. Weasley learned during your fourth year. You should also remember that silence can be an even more effective poison than jealousy."

"You mean I should tell them about this?"

"That, too, is for you to decide. You must not, however, allow this to happen again. As I have said to you once before, it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

Harry had the unmistakable impression that their conversation was at an end.

"Thank you, sir."

"You are quite welcome Harry."

As Harry reached the door, Dumbledore spoke again.

"Oh, Harry."

"Yes, sir?"

"You might want to recommend to Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley that they avoid that particular classroom for a while."

Harry smiled at the twinkle in the Headmaster's eye and headed for Gryffindor tower. He needed to have a very long talk with his best friends.

He could only hope he would still be able to call them that when it was over.


End file.
